Welcome to my bloggy home. Here, I strive to make you laugh like never before, cry warmhearted tears, get silly, and be naughty. Together, we'll uncover morsels of sweetness in the light and dark. You'll leave craving chocolate. That's a given. I'm a bad influence. Oy vey, am I a bad influence! {But I do recommend fair trade and organic varieties.} Please enjoy the samples, and may you fast become addicted. I hope you'll return again and again. Then once more.

One Rainbow Tribe in an Orange World (but only for now).

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

It's here -- the book I've been keeping a secret. In the midst of working on my novel, I didn't see the light at the end of that tunnel and caught a bad case of the publishing bug. So I pulled together some of my poetry, teamed with artist-blogger Robin Mead, and here we are! It's a little one, the perfect stocking-stuffer, available through Amazon here.

Monday, November 26, 2012

As 2012 comes to a close, Life by Chocolate proudly (or, in this case, shamefully) presents a series of the year's Top 10. Today, we're looking back at the best of the worst dating ad snippets. I hope this brings laughter.

In reverse order, here they are:

10)I,m well grounded

And so is your apostrophe.

9)I am attending the local junior collage in town.

Keep attending, babe. Keep
attending.

8) New in town and ready to get
in!!Sounds sexual. Judging from your
shirtless photo and delightfully chiseled abs, I’d like to invite you to do so.
I mean -
clearing throat and composing self - good
luck to you, sir. Have a nice day.

7)what does a guy got to do to get a grilSave
$100. Visit Walmart’s Patio and Garden department. They should be able to
assist you from there.

6)for
leisure; i like to go for walks at the park i also like to ride my bike there
on the bike baths or just have a nice panic by the lake.

Sounds lovely, darling, but I prefer
to have nice panics in private.

5) I'm distrustful of gnomes.

I’m distrustful of men who are
distrustful of gnomes.

4) You can call me Jim (no it's not MY name) but, it's only
fair since I call everyone "Jim"

3) Lets play in traffic

Okay, you go first!

2)pork

No thanks, I’m Jewish.

THE CLEAR WINNER:

This one, I'm not touching.

1)I'm a Clyde looking for my Boney

CONGRATULATIONS, Mr. Clyde! We’d
like to offer you your Boney, but we can’t do that here. Good luck on
your search.

I feel so close to so many of you, it's really difficult to narrow down the list. Please know that I value our connection, whether or not you made the final cut. Here we go:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO BLOGGERS I REALLY MISS:

I never thought I'd find another blogger with a sense of humor as silly and warped as mine, much less two other bloggers. From different parts of the country, though, we connected and enjoyed repeated threesomes. Don't get too excited for me, I'm talking about a series of blog posts. One, an intervention with Yogi Bear, is here. These two have kept me laughing for days on end. Life being life and all, we haven't had a threesome in a long time. I really miss my hilariously clever buddies, The Invisible Seductress and Powdered Toast Man.

THREE BLOGGERS I WOULD REALLY MISS:

I love Melissa. She's a feisty, quick-witted, caring badass, who likes to write about female badasses. Her writing is wonderful, and she holds nothing back. Melissa has become a friend too. I could go on and on. Instead, I'll say that you should follow her atMelissa's Imaginariumif you aren't already.

Pearl is one of the most talented, entertaining writers I know. She spins hilarious tales about things like a coworker pointing out that her sweater was on inside out. She looked down and noticed some type of pureed food (squash perhaps?) on it. That Pearl. She's a fun-loving delight, whose second book is near publication.

Third but not least, there's Alex. I'm unlike many of Captain Alex's crew in that I'm not a sci-fi fan, movie buff, or published author (not quite yet). But Alex has become a good friend and inspiration, whose support is invaluable. He consistently visits and comments on my blog. We all know Alex works hard to facilitate blogger connections, in addition to regularly creating fun, informative posts. I can't imagine the blogosphere without you, Alex. I really appreciate you.

Monday, November 12, 2012

originally posted in Nov, 2010Dear Holidays,How’d you
get here so fast? Let me help you --pause, as I kick holiday's tuchas (Yiddish for butt)-- out the back
door. Oops, sorry. I forgot I was wearing stilettos. Well, while you’re
down there, I’ve gotta say something. Who invited you anyway? What with
all that tinsel and sparkle, you think you’re hot to trot. Sweetie,
you’re wrong. You don’t bring on the cheer. You incite increased need
for Prozac. You multiply family tensions a gazillionfold. All this
forced focus on love and happiness just makes us think about our losses
and what we don’t have. Face it. You’re a downer, darling.

Financial
problems torment us already. There you go, sauntering in, all flirty and
stuff. Next thing we know, we have to buy gifts for people we don’t
even like. Plus, we have to see them, and eat with them, and even hug
them.

On the
other hand, ever been alone between Halloween and Valentine’s Day? I
can’t even grab a bite to eat without incident. Wait-staff never get
it. I always have to overemphasize the “one” factor. “Yes, I want a table for one. Yes, that’s ‘one’ as in ‘one.’ Me. Yep. I’m alone again this holiday season.
Just seat me in that decrepit booth in the corner. Toss me a box of
tissue, a bag to wear over my head, and a bottle of whiskey. I’ll be just fine.
All one of me. Oh, quit
looking at me with sympathy. I could be on a date, but have you read my
dating stories? I'm better off, all one of me, at a table for one. Yes, just one."

What’s up with fruitcake, anyway? It’s got no business calling itself a cake. Cake is neither ugly nor gross. Alright,
I’ve knocked you down long enough. Come on in, and leave the
chocolate-peppermint fudge on the counter. You can come back next year,
but only if you bring some more and depart quickly.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Alex J. Cavanaughfounded the blogosphere's one-and-only Insecure Writer’s Support Group.
We’re posting monthly, exposing our vulnerabilities and/or offering support to
one another. Please check out Alex’s blog to visit others’ posts. It’s a great group. Join us, if you haven't
already! All that's required is an insecurity or two hundred.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**The following interview might be real.
Any resemblance to a real author, though, is a mere coincidence.**

Robyn: Ladies and gentlemen, today we welcome Erika James,
better known as EL James, author of 50 Shades of Grey! Erika bites her lip. She walks on stage
wearing a very low-cut pale grey blouse, tight dark grey leather skirt, and black-grey stilettos.Robyn shakes her hand. Thanks for taking the time to come here. Please have a seat. Erika and Robyn sit in leather recliners; hers a
deep grey, Robyn’s a fainter grey.

Robyn continues: I’ve seen your interviews on other shows, and I’m
disappointed. You seem nice and humble. It’s hard to hate you. But I’m
extremely jealous of your success, especially since you write like *bleep.* It’s
not fair of me to judge, because I didn’t read it, but it’s *bleep.*

Erika sits
erect and bites her lip again. I’ve sold over 40 million. How much of your work have you sold?

Robyn changes
the subject, slumps over and digs into her purse. She pulls out a Big Hunk bar.
Want some candy?

Erika: No thank you. She bites her lip again. I get my nuts back at home.

Robyn: I bet. I don’t. Robyn
ravages the Big Hunk. Mmm mm, so um, -she
wipes her mouth with the back of her hand- when I first heard your book has
a lot of BDSM,* I got excited. I like big dark sexy men. I wanted to
research and write about them too. And make millions. Something was wrong,
though, because lots of real authors write about big dark sexy men, and they’re
struggling. So I googled BDSM, and good Lord! Robyn’s face turns red.She giggles. My idea of risqué sex is doing it over
the bedsheets. But only with the lights out. At night. During the summer.

Erika:She bites her lip again. I understand you’re an expert on celibacy. I’m not
surprised really.

Robyn: Yeah, but on the other hand, sex shouldn’t be torturous.
I mean, there’s build-up to a scene in your book in which the young woman tells
the man to punish her to the full extent. So he beats her with a belt, and then
she’s devastated because they aren’t compatible. That’s pure *bleep*! Your
success raises my insecurities. Do I have to write sh*t that to be successful?

Erika: It depends how you define success. And sh*t. She bites her lip again.

Robyn: Ah yes. That’s the deepest thing you’ve expressed. Thank
you!

Erika: You’re welcome. She bites her lip again. Listen —she grabs her purse–
you keep plugging away, and I’ll keep whipping them out and making millions. Erika stands
up, waves at the audience, then graciously shakes Robyn’s hand. Toodles!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*In case I’m not the only one who needed to look
up this term, it means: bondage-discipline, dominance-submission, and
sado-masochism.